The Waltzing Matilda
by Moga
Summary: Arcahi Wishy roams the Empire in an endless search for refuge. The needs and wants bring him into conflict with the Irkens. Is this the end, or will the old survive the new? SongficOC and likely more of very strong PGlight PG13 for blood.


The Waltzing Matilda

Disclaimer: Hey, whadaya know, I actually own something! Wishy/I.E.1 is my own property as are the Archai. I guess I own everyone in this story, actually, but Irkens are not my property. If they were, I'd be working on some movies.

A/N: Yes, this may be confusing but I hope it will create questions. I'm working on a much longer work that this goes with, the tales of the Archai. The events that lead up to this story would be stories one through three, although this would likely fall into the third story. I have around 10,000 words of the first story done and have just backed off a bit to go over what I've written before continuing. And if I get a bets between now and posting that couldn't hurt either.

End Notes/Start Story

The idea of travel was decently basic and easy to grasp. However, it was the different modes of travel that lost Wishy from the get-go. Were not legs invented for walking and running? Sure, perhaps using the legs of another creature was good, beneficial for both even. The rider got to his destination with less expenditure of energy and the ridee got to wherever it was that he was going. Of course, somewhere in the depth of his mind he figured that it would be nice if the roles were interchangeable, but, as the rider, he also figured he shouldn't want the roles to be transposable.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,

But now was not the time for travel. Now was the time for rest and food. The bright sun had reached its peak and was falling back to touch the Earth. Dusty golden rays coated the ground and it took most of his self control not to run out into the open and bask in the warmth of the setting sun.

Under the shade of a Coolibah tree,

Most unfortunately he couldn't rest safely in the open. Not even a break in the trees, he noted, in simpler terms, as he studied his surroundings. But he had gotten a late start, following a pair of small scurrying insects that captivated his interest. One extremely fast orange one and one squishy little black one now safely tucked away in his lower stomach.

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil,

He giggled slightly as he set a cup of water to boil over a small fire. He stared at the dancing flames, eyed glazing over as he remembered death and celebration centered around the miniature inferno. A fiery serpent rose up in his mind's eye, flaming jaws stretching open as a literal tongue of flames licked the air. It crashed down, exploding upwards into jets of fire as burning embers fell to the ground, burning green skin black…

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

He shivered, suddenly scared and longing for companionship. He knew there was none to be found; this was the life that was given to him. He would be an outsider, a small, scared freak. He missed the forests; missed his ohami.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,

There was little time to think of the past, though. The present consumed him, forced him forward with the muzzle of a laser buried behind his head. To stop was to die and to live was to suffer.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,

That though scared him to no end. Yet at the same time, it comforted him. Was life any different, really? He was used to abuse, the claws swinging and connecting with his head, teeth buried in his shoulder…

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil

He'd always endured it than, hadn't he? Forced away and always went crawling back into the nest, bruised and bleeding. But… There had always been Ma-gi there to sing to him and lick his wounds clean before he was inevitable beaten again.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

Now… there was no one. Just himself and the ground and the sky. Gods? There were no Gods; his descendents had killed them. His? Theirs? He'd never gotten the chance to have any smeets…

Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong

He was dragged back to reality as his water seethed in its confines and boiled over, making the fire hiss in agitation as it was forced to recede under the onslaught. Blinking red eyes slowly, he reached out and took the cup from its position over the fire. He really had no need to boil it other than as a way to pass time. Across the lake he had stopped at, a small, excessively furry creature stood. It blinked its deep brown eyes at him for a moment before shaking its head, shiny tan fur unsettled before the long strands fell back down. It pulled back its small pointed ears and bent its head to drink.

Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,

Creatures that stupid deserved to be killed, although all that passed through Wishy's mind was 'Kill.' Simple, blunt, brutish perhaps, but necessary. It was the way of the wild; live or die, do or don't, kill or be killed. He lunged across the lake, a simple feat made more difficult by his lack of practice. Claws dug through silken strands of fur into hidden tawny flesh. The creature never even got to lift its head, instead being forced underwater.

And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag

He softly howled an old hunting song to himself as he unsheathed a claw to cut with. He recalled fondly how the Telttu would throw their head back, antennae pressed back as they howled their song. He'd never been a Telttu, never really even been part of a hunting party. The elders didn't want him around; he was too destructive. Sighing, he finished cutting what he could take. Sitting back and getting comfortable, he allowed a moment for his throat to slick with saliva before bringing a chunk of the meat to his mouth. Jaws stretching open, he swallowed the piece whole and let it slid down to his upper stomach. He continued this process for each piece, storing them in natural preservatives to eat later.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

Yes… Later. Now he had to move again. Something was wrong with the water here. It didn't move quite right, brushed over the bank too softly for his liking. The trees whispered to the back of his mind, telling him things he couldn't hear but knew were being said. The air brushed by him, cold, secretive, and uncaring.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,

He couldn't be sure about the trees and he knew nothing of the wind, but he trusted the water. Had not the water sent him his Watcher? And was it not water that he had to drink to live? Yes, water, he knew, was good and pure.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,

And the Irkens, he knew, were not. They were corrupt, evil things. Abusing the ore of the Earth, destroying nature, killing Gods… Creating _him_. Not dwelling on that thought, had to move. He sighed, this life was depressing.

And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag

He couldn't resist anymore. He slunk out from under the cover of the trees, walking near the edge of the wooded area but far enough away that he wouldn't be in the shadow of the towering trees. He continued on his way with the sun warming his back, singing softly as he walked. "Smeet be nimble, smeet be quick, smeet jump under Watcher's gaze…" It was an old song, one he had heard Ma-gi sing once or twice. She always seemed so sad when she sang it and he never understood that. It was a nice, happy song, he though. "With Silver's moon above, you will find Sem-dendi. Smeet be nimble, smeet be quick, smeet jump under Watcher's gaze, all throughout the course…"

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

He remember, faintly, Imarie once telling him that the whole song was babble. "It's not good for you and it's not good for us. But especially for you, bakaru, because you'd be stupid enough to actually believe it." Stupid…?

"_He has elevated levels of psylunaphime. He's_ _either defective or the whole species was insane. Based on these scans, we're assuming brain trauma, but we'll need to conduct more tests before we can reach a conclusion."_

Up rode the squatter mounted on his thorough-bred

"'Ey, ARCHAI!" That wasn't good… Figymen? He turned, antennae perked at that thought. But no, this was real, a solid Irken standing behind him, gloves coated in crimson blood. It dripped rapidly to the ground, wet and light. The purple eyed Irken glared at him, brave bravado before his cowardice, staying a safe distance behind him. "You're gon' get what's comin' to yeh, yeh filthy beast!"

Down came the troopers One Two Three

Three militants emerged from the trees, weapons drawn and charged. They were much larger than the first, heavily armored and brainwashed into bravery to boot. They were identical: strong build, average height, stony red eyes, and those strange lumps on their backs.

Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag

"'Ey, sorry yeh took tha' jumbuck now, aren't yeh? See, I told yeh yeh would get wha's comin' to yeh. A nice blast a' energy to th' 'ead, now that's wha' comin' to yeh!" Hecka? These Irkens… They never made any sense but this one… This once just sounded _different_. Angry, yes, but something about the sounds it made seems different…

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

One of the soldiers growled. Little defective, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere… If there'd been anything worse about this one he would have been deactivated. But as it was, the speech defect didn't impede his ability to work and he was spared. Generous… But the same generosity would not be extended to the little lab freak. It was the end of the line for that failure, he knew as he fingered the trigger of his laser.

Waltzing Matilda Waltzing Matilda

Tired, so very tired… Food made him tired but this went beyond his physical needs. His body could go on, could go on for at least a few more days before he had to stop again. But his mind was tired. It wanted to rest, to end this game. It was always such a fun game before, whenever he could get anyone to play with him. It was easy, just an uncalled-for smack or head butt and off he would go, gleefully being chased through the forest. But he hadn't initiated, hadn't _wanted_, this game.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me

But he didn't have a choice now. He was the prey and the prey never had a choice. The hunter, oh yes, the hunter had a choice. They didn't have to take the bait, didn't have to continue the game endlessly. And here forfeit was not an option. Coret?

Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag

The leader fingered the trigger of his laser for another moment before drawing the weapon level with Wishy's head. "Bring him down." With the order simplified as much as possible, he fired the laser, aiming directly between his quarry's eyes.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

Wishy yowled as he jerked back from the beam of light. Those hurt, he had fast learned, and injuries slowed him down. So stupid, to be caught out in the open like this. He should have stuck to the trees instead of giving in and opting for the warmth of the sun. At least in the forest he could hide or put obstacles in their way. This was flat land; no cover. He couldn't outrun them; again, no cover.

Up jumped the swagman sprang in to the billabong

Unless… Yes, maybe. Such stupidity made him fair game to be killed, but maybe he could be smart and live. He charged forward, dodging the lasers as best he could. One struck him in the left shoulder and he hissed as he felt the flesh there burn. Another seared the skin on his back as he ducked his head to avoid a shot to the face. When he was close enough the Irkens jerked away, knowing they couldn't win a physical fight. They didn't believe in what the Gods gave them…

You'll never catch me alive said he,

"Chirka chirka!" he yelled as plunged headfirst into the lake he had rested by. The water wrapped around him, soothing his wounds, both physical and mental. Yet at the same time, his injuries burned on contact with the clear liquid, clouding the water as a dark haze streamed upwards.

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong

The leader cursed as their captive jumped into the water. They couldn't go in after him without risking their own lives and their weapons wouldn't function under the deadly liquid. Based on the smoke, the other had the same lack of tolerance for the acidic substance. His superiors would _not_ be happy that the experiment had apparently killed itself.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

The group stayed near the pool of death for a while longer, searching the area for any information on the creature that was so different yet so similar. They found little besides the body of the jumbuck. Stressed and angry, the leader had the body prepared for transport. He refused to go back completely empty handed.

Waltzing Matilda Waltzing Matilda

All that work for nothing… The leader growled as he glared at the lake, surface slate gray from the earlier sublimate reaction. Gathering his small team back together, he dismissed the purple-eyed Irken who was howling about how the jumbuck, or what was left of it, was his and how they couldn't take it away from him.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me

Those were the witnesses who started the tale of Experiment I.E.1, tossing the well-known facts about his origin together with vague details of what happened between than and his self-inflicted death. It was wide spread for a while before dying down to simply another legend. All the information on I.E.1 was filled away to gather dust and be forgotten.

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong

It is also said that sometimes Irkens saw him roaming on planets that still had natural vegetation and free-roaming creatures. Mysterious disappearances of domesticated creatures, one of the songs in the legend drifting on the wind, and sometimes, rarely, a feral call of longing reverberating through the night.

You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

If only the scientists had done their research, perhaps they would have cared more for the legend. But as it was, Wishy drifted, searching the universe. And when he was done he had no place left to go but the one existing place that he was tied to. But the center was gone, rebuilt into an academy. And so there he stayed, waiting for a time when he wouldn't be lonely anymore.


End file.
